Noelle stepped back outside and sank once more into the wooden chair beside the old well. The night air clung to her skin, thick and damp, buzzing softly with unseen insects. Her eyes drifted toward the mouth of the well, dark and silent, as if it were watching her back.
She sighed deeply.
For a fleeting moment, she wondered if it might be better to lie down beside it instead—anything to escape the relentless mosquitoes that feasted on her exposed arms and legs. But she immediately shook her head. Her back would surely regret that decision by morning.
With a groan, she ran her fingers through her hair, scratching her scalp in frustration.
"You know, you're really a menace," she muttered, shooting an annoyed glare at the cat sitting nearby. "Because of you, my peaceful sleep is gone. Instead of resting, I'm turning into an all-you-can-eat buffet for mosquitoes."
She rolled her eyes dramatically.
The cat, however, merely stared at her with wide, innocent eyes.
"Meow."
Noelle let out a short, humorless laugh. "Fine, fine. My fault already. Sorry, okay? I was just curious about where you were going. You're just too cute," she continued ranting, pointing accusingly at the animal.
And it was true. The cat was undeniably cute. That was exactly the problem. She had followed it without thinking—like an idiot, she scolded herself now.
She continued lecturing the cat, her voice low and tired, when suddenly—
Bang.
The sound echoed from inside the well.
Noelle froze mid-sentence.
Her breath caught in her throat as she slowly turned her head toward the well. The darkness inside it seemed deeper than before, heavier somehow.
"Hello?" she called out cautiously. "Is someone in there? Or… do you live in there?" she added nervously, glancing at the cat. "Are you a well-dwelling cat or something?"
Bang.
This time, louder.
Noelle shot up from her chair, her heart pounding violently against her ribs. The noise came again—once, twice—rapid and relentless.
"Oh, come on!" she exclaimed, clutching her chest. "How many times am I supposed to almost die of fear tonight?"
Despite every instinct screaming at her to run, her feet betrayed her. Slowly, carefully, she stepped closer to the well, her movements hesitant, as though the darkness might suddenly reach out and grab her.
Then—silence.
The banging stopped.
Her pulse thundered in her ears as she reached the edge. The sudden quiet unsettled her more than the noise had.
Swallowing hard, Noelle placed her trembling hands on the wooden cover of the well. She hesitated only a second before lifting it, inch by inch.
What greeted her was… nothing.
An empty well.
No shadow moved. No sound echoed back.
Her unease deepened, crawling up her spine like ice.
"Hey… kitty," she whispered shakily, glancing over her shoulder. "There's nothing in here. So where did that noise come from?"
The cat leapt onto the stone edge of the well and peered inside, its tail flicking lazily as if nothing were amiss.
For several long minutes, Noelle stared into the well, her eyes straining to see anything out of place. Eventually, she took a cautious step backward… then another.
"Okay," she said nervously, forcing a laugh that sounded far too brittle. "I'm leaving now. I may be a doctor, but I'm still human, and I'm terrified of ghosts. So… yeah. I'm going. Goodbye."
She turned on her heel, ready to bolt—
When suddenly, the inside of the well began to glow.
A blinding white light burst forth, flooding the clearing. Noelle gasped and raised her arms to shield her eyes as she staggered backward, panic seizing her whole body.
"What the—"
Before she could finish the thought, something wrapped tightly around her waist.
Cold. Strong. Unyielding.
She screamed as the force yanked her backward, dragging her toward the well.
"Aaaaaah!"
Her scream echoed into the night—then vanished as her body plunged into the well.
She hit water hard, the impact knocking the air from her lungs. The water swallowed her scream completely, sealing her in suffocating silence.
Her mind reeled.
But… there was no water before.
Darkness surrounded her, thick and endless. She tried to swim upward, desperate for air, but the current was too strong, pulling her down with merciless force.
Her limbs burned. Her chest ached.
Through the swirling water, she caught sight of the cat above her, sitting calmly at the edge of the well, staring down as if merely watching a spectacle.
It didn't move.
It didn't help.
It just watched her sink.
Is this it? she wondered weakly as her strength faded. Is this really how I die?
If so—curse you, you stupid cat, she thought bitterly, just before the darkness began to consume her consciousness.
What Noelle didn't see—what she couldn't see—was the cat suddenly leaping into the well after her.
Light and water collided, swallowing them both.
The glow faded slowly, dissolving into nothingness.
And just like that, the night passed without disturbance.
No one noticed the disappearance of the doctor. No alarms were raised. No cries were heard.
It was as if she had simply vanished—
like a mushroom sprouting overnight, then disappearing without a trace from the world of humans.